


The redressing of a Princess.

by millygal



Series: Impala's deserve respect ;) [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Humor, Impala, Impala Feels, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 02:36:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10912584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: Beauty is in the eye of the car key holder.





	The redressing of a Princess.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N#1: This is the final piece in my Impala's Deserve More Respect set of fics, LOL! This is for kinkthatwinked, a) because she was SO amused at my annoyance and b) because she knows why!!! <3 I advise reading the second one in the series, then this piece of crazy!
> 
> A/N#2: The car you see in my art at the end comes from RodCityGarage and DAMN the boys at Count's Kustom's could learn a thing or two!!! ;) Thank you, you awesome car restoration peeps. Also, the first pic on the art is a genuine build it yourself '67 Impala SS kit, which is why Dean says, “Hell yes, way better! She didn’t just come in black, ya know.” If you wanna buy the SS kit - go HERE!
> 
> A/N#3 I feel slightly less growly bear about that piece of blue&white fur lined crap, now, lol! Enjoy winchestergirl, I know you will :D <3 Unbeta'd but looked over once again by my gorgeous jj1564 <3

The sound of fabric being forcibly removed from the inside of a car can be heard clear across the Bunker, said ear splitting noise is being peppered with the colourful and quite frankly shocking language of a man who’s still steaming from his toes to the top of his head about useless muscle car owners who have no respect for age and beauty.

“How fuckin’ dare they, I mean, look at this crap! Fuzzy shit has no place in a classic and certainly not _this_ classic.”

“Uh, Dean?”

“WHAT!”

Sam takes an involuntary step backwards, knowing what he’s about to say is probably only going to anger the bear that’s been his brother since his little break and enter session. “I completely understand your indignation, however, you think perhaps we have better things to be doing than detailing a car?”

The sound of rumbling coming from within the eye straining Impala makes Sam take yet another step backwards.

Dean can feel a fury festering in his chest that really isn’t Sam’s fault, but who else is he going to take his anger out on?

Unfolding himself from the front seat, Dean straightens to his full height and glares at his brother. “Detailin’ a _car_? A **car**! She’s not just a car, Sammy, and if you think for one minute there’s anythin’ more important than restorin’ her to her former glory, then we clearly aren’t actually related. I knew Mom swapped you out with a howler monkey!”

Anyone else faced with Dean’s car-related-rage would probably have curled in on themselves by now. Sam, on the other hand, is more than used to his brother’s innate hatred of all things prissy or downright degrading when it comes to the abuse of classics.

Shaking his head and bestowing an infuriatingly sweet smile upon Dean, Sam steps forward and pats his brother on the shoulder and lays a sickly sweet open mouthed kiss on his forehead. “Fine, fine, but you know you can’t just gut her interior, right? This thing is **famous** and currently on America’s Most Publicised Vehicle Thefts list. You’re gonna have to re-spray her.”

Dean blows out a semi-calming breath and steps sideways, pointing to the workbench currently covered in all of his most prized car restoration tools. “Way ahead of you, little brother.”

Sam flicks his eyes to the can of paint sitting innocently in amongst some of the most bizarre looking tools he’s ever seen. “Seriously? And that’s better than what she looks like now?”

Dean smirks and nods his head like it’s on a spring. “Hell yes, way better! She didn’t just come in black, ya know.”

Sam huffs a laugh and smiles at his insane brother before asking the inevitable. “So, we keeping her, or is she destined for an auction block?”

“Neither. I have the perfect owner all lined up.”

“One who won’t ditch you in it with the feds?”

“Oh yes.”

“I look forward to seeing her when she’s finished. Need anything from me?”

Dean climbs back inside the front seat of the Impala and starts tearing at the blue and white fur which keeps adhering itself to his jeans. “Steady stream of beer and nachos will do me.”

“Why did I even ask?”

***************

Dean lovingly and gently stencils out the decals he’ll need for the roof of the Impala, all the while imagining the look on it’s recipients face. They’re gonna have heart failure, and damn if he isn’t proud to bring it on. “It’s okay Baby, we’ll have you dressed to impress in no time.”

Sam leans against the edge of the garage door holding the cold bottle of bud complete with already popped cap, listening to Dean talking to the car he’s spent five solid days working on, and wishes with all his heart that everyone could see the way his brother really is.

There’s no hunting and monsters, none of the depressing drudgery that goes with this life they’ve chosen. Just a man in tune with a machine and putting everything he has into the project.

It’s such a shame they picked this path, Dean would’ve made a hell of a mechanic.

“You nearly done in there, Bozo the bow-legged clown?”

“I’ll give you Bozo, Moose-Boy. And yes, nearly, now fuck off so I can get on with it. Leave the beer.”

******

“No freakin’ way!”

Dean’s almost taken off his feet by the force of the blonde girl - woman - leaping into his arms as she screeches and shrieks out her excitement at her belated birthday gift.

“You like her?”

“Like her? **LIKE** her? She’s fuckin’ beautiful!”

“Language, Claire.”

“Sorry, Jodes.”

Sam smirks at Jody who’s having serious issues not throwing herself into Dean’s arms as well. Ever the _adult_ , she shakes her head and grins behind Claire’s back before mouthing thank you to Dean who’s still got a face full of over excited eighteen year old.

Jody steps up next to the car and peers inside, noting the devil’s trap emblazoned on her dash and the fully warded glove box. “She’s certainly sturdier than that piece of cr - dross you’ve been driving around, Claire.”

Claire climbs out of Dean’s arms after dropping a soft kiss on his cheek and throws herself in the driver’s seat. “Dude, she’s cherry. I can’t believe she’s mine.”

Dean leans down next to the open window and taps the roof. “Douche her up, I take her back, we clear?”

Claire nods so hard she gives herself a headache. “Got it, no douchery. Best not let Sammy-boy anywhere near her then.”

“Hey!”

“She’s got a point, Mister iPod-jack!”

“You left her to ME!”

Dean ignores Sam in favour of eyeing Jody who’s sidled up next to him and is tugging on his jacket tails. “You, I could - what exactly possessed you to gift her a car - I don’t want her - “

Dean smiles softly at Jody and wraps her in a hug so Claire can’t hear their conversation. “She’s gonna hunt, Jody. Least this way she’s not at risk of breakin’ down every five seconds. Plus she’s got one hell of a mechanic on speed dial. We good?”

Jody pushes her face into Dean’s shoulder and nods, trying to hold back the tears threatening to fall. “We’re good, and you’re right, and _thank you_.”

“Always welcome, **always**.”

***********

Dean and Sam watch Jody and Claire drive away in a fully restored 1967 Chevrolet Impala SS complete with lowered suspension and custom paint job, and both men can’t help the stupidly wide grins on their faces.

“You did good, Dean, you did good.”

“Fuck good, I did great!”

“So humble!”

 

Fin!


End file.
